pain of it made Nat cradle his fist in his other hand and swear violently. He had to stop aiming for the face and use the stomach instead.
Lombard, blood covering his face, scrambled away, crab-like, his pitiful wails filling the room. “I’m sorry, Nat. Enough, enough. I never meant for it to go this far.” He spat blood. “I-I just was desperate… I needed Carstairs’s shipment, you knew that. My debts…”
“You’ve always got debts! I’ve bailed you out time and again and this is how you repay me?”
“I’m sorry, Nat. I’ll never go near her again, I promise, no matter what.”
“Too right you won’t.” Nat advanced, the urge to kick his teeth in too strong to resist.
Holding his hand up, crouched over like a wounded animal, Lombard begged. “Enough Nat, no more, please. I’ll not do it, I promise.”
Nat stilled. “Do what?” He waited for Tristan to say more, but the man just cried, dribbling blood down his white shirt. “Do what, you bastard?” Nat hauled him up again. “What had you planned?”
“It was her plan, not mine. I didn’t want to get involved but she offered a lot of money - money that I need.”
“Who?” Nat racked his brain trying to understand his meaning. “Tell me or I’ll kill you now, you worthless piece of scum.”
“I can’t.”
“You will.” He shook him like a rag doll. “Whose plan and what was it?”
“She wanted me to get rid of your wife.”
“Who did?”
“Your mother!”
The room spun. Dizzy, Nat dropped Lombard like a sack of coal, uncaring of anything but the one word whirling around his brain. Mother.
A pain so acute ripped his chest apart. It felt like a red-hot poker was thrust through his body aimed straight for his heart. He stumbled. The surroundings blurred then came back into focus making him feel sick. Silence pounded in his ears. Instinct told him to run, to hide from the hurt, but a burning ember of fury grew, replacing all thought.
As though his feet had grown wings, he dashed from the room, down the stairs and out of the barroom. Out in the street he ran through the rain, splashing across puddles to the carriage. “Home. Now!” He shouted to Timms and threw himself into the carriage.
The drive home in the deepening darkness seemed interminable. He couldn’t think or feel – was numb to all sense as his rage built. His nerves were shredded raw by the time Timms halted the horses in front of the house. The wheels hadn’t fully stopped before he jumped from the carriage and bolted inside.
The parlour door opened as he made for the staircase. He jerked around and stared at Nicola. Anguish clouded her eyes. She looked so forlorn and lost and his heart shattered into pieces. She knew. She knew his mother had deceived them.
She’d known all along.
For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“My love,” she said softly, “There’s something I must tell you.”
“Nic…I…”
She glanced at his red and bloody hand gripping the banister and frowned. “Will you come with me?”
Emotion burnt his throat, draining his anger. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t go through the pain of seeing his mother’s ridicule, of knowing she never cared for him. “Where-where is she?”
“Your mother is upstairs in her room sleeping. No, don’t go up.” She held out her hand and he forced himself to go to her.
In the parlour, he allowed her to guide him to the sofa and she sat beside him. The warmth of the room felt stifling and he pulled at his stiff collar.
She held his hand. “How did you find out?”
“Lombard.”
Nicola shuddered and he wanted to drag her into his arms, but couldn’t. He felt detached, frozen. Where had his rage gone? He understood anger. He’d lived with it long enough to find it a strange comfort. But this numbness was new to him and he didn’t like it. He felt out of control of the situation.
“What of Lombard?” Nicola murmured, as if afraid to say his name.
“I found him. I went to confront him about what happened to you, but he also gave me further information, details which I never expected.”
“In regards to your mother and me?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do to him?”
He raised his hand and studied his swollen knuckles. “He’ll live. Unfortunately.”
“He is another one who belongs in the past now.”
A deep sigh left him. How had he let his life get so unmanageable?
“Do you love me, Nathaniel?”
He stared at Nicola, uncomprehending. “You know I do. You are my life.”
“Am